


we are kings, and queens, and vagabonds

by despairingdignities



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Rated M for possible future chapters, all creds to the silly sausages group chat lmao this is your fault, this is a pirate au, title is from the song by ellem
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 04:22:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11821143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/despairingdignities/pseuds/despairingdignities
Summary: The rivalry defines the shape of the seas of England, and while smaller crews exist, most of them are killed and the rest give the two a wise wide berth, not wanting to get involved in the complex, tangled mess of ex-relationships and rivalry. Both crews have secrets they’d rather not let out, and both crews have one deadly secret they can never share. The fact that at least some of the fighting people see is merely symbolic, and that the enmity between the Mistress and Twelve, and between Thirteen and the Master, is far more complex than it seems on the outside.





	we are kings, and queens, and vagabonds

**Author's Note:**

> chapter title is from 'sinners' by lauren aquilina. this is an au inspired by a lot of hcing in a groupchat so i'm sorry if this doesn't make sense to anyone not in it xD

They call their vessels the ghost ships of England; one moment, they’re there, intimidating the people with their domineering silhouettes against the overcast sky. And yet, all it takes is to blink, and they’ve slunk away once more into the dim sea mist that gathers and hangs over the dark, open water. Everybody is wary of them, though, because even if you can’t see them, it’s still known that they are just out of reach. Biding their time, waiting for the perfect moment to swoop down on whichever unfortunate village happens to get in the way of their chaotic path of carnage, love and war. The ships have always been there, as long as anyone left alive can remember, and it is generally accepted that they will always be there, to haunt England’s seas in the years to come.

For some time, the public believed women could not be pirates, and that their presence would bring malady and misfortune to any ship they set foot upon, and that they were anyways too _weak_ for the trade. But women’s days of masquerading as men are over, thanks to the now particularly infamous Mistress. The day a man questioned her status as a ‘true pirate’ had been one he would not live to rue, and her notorious reputation for being a merciless captain began to grow as she let him beg for his life with the cold steel of her sword biting into his throat.

As with anything, there are fierce rivalries upon the seas, and the Mistress’ most well-known nemesis is a more generous man. Or, well, as generous as you can be while still being a _pirate_ , a title that has a naturally selfish job description. He needs no introduction, and no vainglorious titles, and his sword is sooner sheathed at his side than drawn in his hand. The mysterious well-meaning thief calls himself simply ‘Twelve’, and the origin of his name is as much of a mystery as the reason he became a pirate in the first place.

Countless clashes occur between them on the water, constantly straying into each other’s territory with even most of their crew not knowing _why_ , aside from the first mates, who seem all too happy to go along with the tirade between them for one reason or another.

The Mistress’ first mate, rather unoriginally, calls himself ‘The Master.’ A round-faced man with a penchant for sadism, if there is anyone on the seas less merciful than his captain, he’s that ‘anyone’. The amount of blood his sword has seen is immeasurable - his mischievous aura, alongside his impossible charm (as much of a weapon as his sword, in truth) is the honey-trap in several of their missions. Once upon a time, he had a wife, called Lucy, but he’d discarded her when he grew tired of her company. The Master is power-hungry, there’s no question of that, and there are whispers of him trying to overthrow his captain. The Mistress, however, treats his attempts at ‘mutiny’ with humour and derision, more like a game or a hilarious joke than as a serious threat. Hence why his head is still connected to his _neck_ after all this time.

His equivalent on Twelve’s vessel is a small blonde who has, likewise, apparently taken up the mantle of her captain and named herself ‘Thirteen.’ It’s probably a homage to how the number is seen as unlucky, and linked to the old tales of women on ships being harbingers of despair, but she won’t tell. Everyone knows the story of how _she_ ended up a seafarer, though. The story of how she owes her captain a life debt, and had nowhere else left to go, lacking a family, so she swore her sword to Twelve. She has quite the tongue on her, such that The Mistress often threatens to cut it out, and is surprisingly a formidable adversary. Her bitter rivalry with The Master is nearly as intense as their captains’, and likely just as well documented.

Twelve does, however, have a few more companions (his ‘scurvy crew’ as he often calls it in jest) likely because he’s less likely to lose his temper and murder them on a whim. The first is a woman named Bill, who is rather the bright spark, the curious sort who might do well to remember that curiosity killed the cat. She lost her love some years ago now, and sails with Twelve in the hope she might one day find her and live on the sea without fear of people’s judgement and persecution. The second, who most people find unscrupulous, is a bald-headed man called Nardole. Even Twelve doesn’t really seem to know why he’s there, he sort of _just tagged along_ with the rag-tag bunch of wanderers with nowhere to go.

The rivalry defines the shape of the seas of England, and while smaller crews exist, most of them are killed and the rest give the two a wise wide berth, not wanting to get involved in the complex, tangled mess of ex-relationships and rivalry. Both crews have secrets they’d rather not let out, and both crews have one deadly secret they can never share. The fact that at least some of the fighting people see is merely symbolic, and that the enmity between the Mistress and Twelve, and between Thirteen and the Master, is far more complex than it seems on the outside.

“How’s it looking?” Twelve calls up the mast, and sure enough the blonde makes her usual dramatic landing, sliding down the rope and landing squarely on her feet. “You really need to stop doing that.”

“Just great,” Thirteen grins at him, “our old friends are back, as usual, third time this week.” Her hand rests on the hilt of her sword. “You love them really.” She ignores his comment about her entrance methods, something that doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Never said anything about loving that Master of yours,” Twelve mutters, “how long have we got?”

She shrugs. “Fifteen minutes, if that, unless they surprise us earlier.”

He smiles. “That’s more than I need.”


End file.
